Emlin paused for two seconds, lowered his chin slightly, and asked, "Yes, who is it?" To him, angels were worthy of reverence, but it was the bloodline's great figures—each one called "Him"—who truly made him bow his head, for they were witnesses and firsthand participants in the long history of the race, the very source of his pride. "I'm not sure. We'll let you know when the time comes," Casimir O'Drake shook his head. ...Has the Primordial come to deliver a message? With instructions to follow? Why doesn't the Primordial simply reveal His vision to me directly, in a more private way? After all, I am the one chosen by Him! Is this to avoid unsettling the "Fool"? A series of questions flashed through Emlin's mind, which he then answered to himself. He said nothing more, donned his hat, and left the O'Drake villa. At the door, seeing the bright sun barely obscured by the thin cloud cover, Emlin gave a disdainful sigh, raised a hand to press against the brim of his hat, lowered his head, and strode straight toward the rental horse carriage at the street corner, murmuring to himself, "Such weather—really not suitable for going out! The remedies and ingredients the 'World' requires are all common; they could be prepared in just a minute or two... Well, the materials I ordered should arrive today, so the transaction that's been delayed for several days with the 'Magician' lady can finally proceed..." With these medicinal preparations for treatment now in hand, she has completed all preparations for her journey to the abandoned castle in Drear Forest and is simply waiting for Thore to return home! Having arranged all her affairs, Folshe collapsed onto the sofa, casually picking up a few newspapers and planning out her day: "Departing at dusk—we should reach the town near the forest edge by dinner time..." As she silently mumbled, Folshe flipped to the newspaper *Maritime News*. Suddenly, her gaze sharpened, and her pupils reflected a familiar name: "Germain Spalro!" Once again, the adventurer has appeared at sea, joining a middle-aged man known as the "Death Magistrate" aboard the *Black Tulip*, defeating the "Lord of Hell," Ludewell, and reshaping the composition of the seven sea-admiral generals. "...," Folshe instinctively patted her chest, unsure exactly what she was grateful for. At that moment, she suddenly felt that Germaine Sparrow's experiences were truly legendary—worthy of being turned into a novel! Unfortunately, he wasn't the most approachable person, otherwise, I could easily have taken on a part-time role as a biographer and written a book about him... Ha! If I actually wrote a book on Germaine Sparrow, I'd definitely be noticed by the official Exceptional Ones... Furse amused herself with these thoughts, then heard the sound of the key being inserted into the lock. She lifted her head and saw Thorne push open the door and enter the living room. "So early?" Furse exclaimed in surprise. Thorne rubbed his right golden hair. "Another meeting with MI9. I've been assigned a new task." "What task?" Furse sat up, showing clear curiosity. Thorne casually dropped himself into the armchair. "To investigate the background of the eccentric adventurer, Germaine Sparrow." The intelligence provided by MI9 indicates that the remarkable individual's name is false, and his identification documents are forged—originating right in Beckland. "They suspect that Germán Sparo has another identity here, possibly with associates or collaborators," said Furse. Upon hearing the word "collaborators," a subtle tremor crossed Furse's lips, and she longed to tell Hugh that MI9's suspicion was correct—Germán Sparo's collaborator was indeed seated across from her. She cleared her throat, speaking with composed calm: "Why are they investigating Germán Sparo's background? What has he done recently?" Hugh glanced at the newspapers stacked beside Furse: "Have you not read today's The Sea News? Germán Sparo has just killed Lord Ludewell, the 'Duke of Hell,' and is hailed as the foremost adventurer across the five seas." "By the way, MI9 mentioned that Germaine Sparrow is likely to believe in the enigmatic figure known as 'The Fool'—this has been reported through several channels, including the Aurora Circle and the Rose School." I can confirm that—yes, they're right. Fothering said with a strong smile. "It sounds quite dangerous." "Yes," Hugh nodded. "I only intend to gather intelligence; I don't plan to delve deeper." Fothering changed the subject, saying: "I've prepared the potion—shall we go to the Drear Forest today?" Hugh had become a Sequence 7 'Interrogator' just a few days prior, and now possessed the valuable ability of 'mental piercing.' "Yes," Hugh stood up promptly, showing great initiative. "Let's go now." "Ah? Wait a moment—my thought was to go at dusk," Fothering responded with some resistance. She always tends to delay until the last minute. Not long after, she, having packed all her belongings, was evicted from her rented apartment and boarded a hired carriage bound for the nearby subway entrance. Amid the thunderous whistle, the massive steam locomotive, its iron-black body winding gracefully, entered the platform and came to a halt under the glow of the gas-lit wall lamps. Forth and Thew stood outside one of the carriages, patiently waiting for the passengers ahead to exit. Suddenly, they spotted two "red gloves." The owner of these "red gloves" was a man in his thirties, wearing a white shirt and a black overcoat, his collar standing high enough to conceal his chin and lips. He had deep green eyes, golden-brown hair at his temples, and carried a silver-white box of a size and width sufficient to hold a violin. Forth and Thew exchanged glances, then lowered their eyes and focused on the tips of their shoes. … As an advanced steward of the Night Church’s “Watchers” team and one of the twenty-two influential figures in the Church’s upper echelons, a member of the “Red Glove” triad, Cresta Césima is not particularly concerned with formalities. He prefers to travel alone, using the everyday transportation of ordinary church members, appearing simply as a regular church official. After transferring to a different subway line and arriving in the northern district, he boarded a hired carriage, traveling all the way to Saint Samuel’s Church, where he met the Bishop of the Beckland diocese, Saint Anthony Stevenson. “I’ll be relying on you for support in the coming period,” Cresta said, after exchanging greetings and praising the goddess, before finding a seat and speaking. The bishop, with a clean face and dressed in a black robe with red accents, settled into his seat as well and paused thoughtfully before responding, “Something related to Inz. Zangweil?” “Yes. "Ceisima nodded slightly." The Holy See has asked me to inform you that Lady Arianna, the other servant of the goddess and abbot of the Night Monastery, will also be coming to Bekland soon. This ascetic ranks first among the thirteen archbishops. Without waiting for Saint Anthony to ask, he explained in detail: "Lady Ilyia has learned many important details from the lingering spirit of Inz. Zanggewel—such as how he was driven out due to psychological distress and exploited by '0–08,' and subsequently collaborated with the royal family and the order of sorceress priests. After orchestrating the Great Haze incident, Inz. Zanggewel was in turn struck back by '0–08,' and was possessed by a malevolent spirit of the Fourth Age—the Red Angel—before setting out alone to the southern continent, where he intends to lay a trap and pursue Lady Ilyia. The most crucial point is that Inz. Zanggewel remembers a particularly significant underground sanctuary located in the northwest outskirts of Bekland, along a stretch of the Tassok River just before it enters the region." "My task is to locate that site." Saint Antonius listened quietly and then asked thoughtfully, "Does Inz. Zangweil know the exact location? Has he never been there?" Cecilia shook her head. "He has entered the site, but always under someone else's guidance—he doesn't possess the key information." Saint Antonius nodded once. Then he asked, "Have you identified which royal group has collaborated with Inz. Zangweil?" "None," said Kresta Cecilia, pausing. "By normal logic, regardless of any disguise, if they've met face to face, there should be residual memories. Yet Inz. Zangweil's soul bears no such traces—there seems to have been no such collaboration at all." "Perhaps it's the influence of the covenant. It might be strong enough to completely resist a Sequence 4 half-divine. The source of that covenant's power deserves attention." Saint Antonius gave a slight nod. He thought for a moment and then added, "The earlier telegram didn't describe much in detail. I'm not entirely clear about the specifics—was it someone who killed Ins. Zangewell?" Kreshta Cessima exhaled slowly. "A name you'll never believe, Kaine Moretti." "The night watch team member who died in the Tinggen incident?" Anthony's forehead lines deepened instantly. "Yes, that's exactly what Ilya reported. No one knows why, at the time, a mere Sequence 8 Kaine Moretti managed to survive—why, in fact, he was able to defeat Ins. Zangewell, a half-god wielding the '0–08' within just under a year..." Cessima's expression grew slightly odd. "The Holy See has instructed us to keep this strictly confidential—no disclosure to any bishop or senior steward beyond the immediate circle. And furthermore, we are to refrain from investigating Kaine Moretti. Simply treat him as though he had always remained buried in the cemetery." Saint Anthony paused for several seconds, subtly nodding as if remembering something, and said: "Perhaps, this is one of the goddess's favored ones..." Cecima suddenly looked up at him, staring at him as though he were mad. He moved his lips several times, but ultimately said nothing. Anthony did not pursue the topic further. He glanced at the door and spoke seriously: "Your mission will likely require extensive investigation—there must be sufficient personnel. Indeed, the Sostre team has completed their tasks on the southern continent. I've asked them to return as soon as possible and follow your instructions." "Very well," said Crysta Cecima without hesitation. ........ "Rest for one day, then return to Bekland?" Leonard lifted his head and looked at the team leader, Sostre. Sostre gazed at him with pity, having been silent for some time, and nodded. After watching the "spirit wizard" leave his room, Leonard sighed silently and leaned back against the wall. At that moment, a deep red glow surged before his eyes, completely engulfing him.